


Sherlock Drabbles

by VoyageBoots



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, Sherlock (TV), Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoyageBoots/pseuds/VoyageBoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago and far away Sherlock lived in a different universe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Sherlock Crossover Drabbles from prompts long ago on the kink meme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hitchhikers crossover 1/2

**Author's Note:**

> (Sherlock Drabbles from prompts long ago on the kink meme)
> 
> Original post: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/14370.html?thread=113408290t113408290

When John comes home from Tesco he expects to find Sherlock in another one of his sulks on the sofa. What he does not expect to find is Sherlock, sitting crossed legged on the floor surrounded by 5 different cages of mice, frantically scribbling away on a notepad.

“New case?” John asks

“Fascinating one!” Sherlock on a case is somewhat reminiscent of a kid whose Ritalin ran out. “4 bodies so far – cause of death unknown but all covered in what appears to be mice teeth marks! Too small to be rats really, but what type of mice none match even Anderson could see that....” 

John tunes out sherlock as he realizes that sherlock is also surrounded by mini plaster molds of mice jawlines. 

“Sorry mice?” he prompts.

“No not mice John, do pay attention, the bodies all had sharp cuts that caused death, more like a mini circular saw I would say. “

“Then why all the- ?” John gestured at the chaos that had once been his living room

“Because why would the killer try and cover up his attack with mice bites! Do try and keep up” Sherlock stands abruptly still holding a brown fieldmouse as he paces the flat. “No obvious connections between the victims, different ages, races, occupations, not all members of an organization. John tries to fight it but flinches anyway when one of Sherlock’s gestures brings the mouse too close to him, some memories too strong to forget.

As with anything John tries to hide Sherlock, of course, notices immediately. “What? Afraid of a little mouse? No, that wouldn’t make sense, you’ve seen Afghani spiders bigger than a mouse, what’s a little mouse? Irrelevant anyway since it’s not really killer mice. Get that would you, Lestrades no doubt found another body” Sherlock doesn’t pause in his deductions or his pacing as the phone chirps.

Avery Row. Needed immediately, before the press gets here. Lestrade

“He says Avery Row –“ and before John can finish, Sherlock has already started down the stairs leaving John no choice but to follow. He catches up just as a cab pulls up “hang on Sherlock we don’t know the address, all he said was Avery –“

“42 Avery Row” Sherlock tells the cabbie. 

“What?” 

“It’s 42. Lestrade’s lack of a more specific address only confirms that more-”

“hang on how?”

“Honestly John, it’s the one thing all the murders have in common – they all lived in number 42. Or 42A in the third victims case” 

Mice and 42. If John believed in a God he might pray. Instead he just desperately wishes he had though to grab his towel before racing after Sherlock. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Hitchhikers crossover 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couple more oneshots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also un-beta-ed. (How does one hyphen that?)

With Sherlock’s rapid deduction of everything John had done since accidently hitchhiking back to Earth while drunk ( medical school, determined to make something of himself and the war, having hitchhiked the galaxy mundane life could be so dull, though somewhat enjoyable – he used to wonder late at night what his mates would change his name to if they knew he was not merely 3-continents-Watson, but a few other planets besides, hell the one time the alien triplets...), he supposed it was possible that Sherlock knew more than just that. John had no idea how to respond to such a thing though, this utter mockery! It was bad enough that the whole universe had seen him in his bathrobe but now if his flatmate continued mocking him by wearing that ridiculous dressing gown-! It was half past two and Sherlock was still lounging on the sofa wearing it. He had been murdering his violin in it when John had left for the surgery that morning. John broke off his thoughts to go make tea, refusing to give Sherlock even the satisfaction of knowing John had understood the mocking. Tea was sacred to John, after all if he could survive all the terrors of the galaxy without his tea, then surely with his tea everything was conquerable, even flat mates in ridiculous dressing gowns. Honestly, his had been a proper robe at least! In the end he chose to ignore Sherlock’s full day wearing of the gown. 

This then turned out to be directly in John’s favour, as after 2 months of living with Sherlock it became obvious to John that Sherlock never even bothered to get dressed unless he had a case. 

\--------

Mycroft supposed it was a little selfish really, allowing the Vogon destruction to occur, but he knew the mysterious scientists of the Earth experiments would never allow it to disappear forever, but he simply could not go on without his umbrella.

It had been his favorite as a young man, dark polished wood, the perfect weight, balanced even before his additions of a sword and Kevlar to it. In his third year of his minor position in the government it had been blown up after he mistakenly left it on a plane. Everyone was so relieved that the unexpected delay in his morning scones meant he wasn’t on that particular plane when the assassins blew it up, they could overlook the zealousness in which those same assassins were tortured to death a day later. The little shop he had found it in was long closed and there was nothing for it. 17 years of making due with inferior ones! It ate at him sometimes late at night, the sheer number of days he had been without it. But there was nothing he could do. 

Until, the Vogons filed their plans to destroy Earth for the hyperspace road. It took a lot of planning, to be in just the right location when the planet builders put the new earth online, not to mention the cheek Anthea kept giving him over his “insensitive and incorrigible use of intergalactic engineering to redeem a bloody umbrella.” He would have fired her for that outburst but the stress of watching the Earth blown up seemed to deserve some allowances, and besides he was rather impressed she had figured out his purpose in allowing the Vogon plans to go uncontested. The fact that he promised to get her a half dozen newly modified blackberries had nothing to do with the fact he needed her help still... 

'Nevertheless, it was all worth it' Mycroft thought to himself, stroking the absolutely perfect umbrella at his side. In exchange for keeping his silence about the planet builders’ secrets he now had his umbrella, not to mention a good 24 extra identical ones safely secured around the globe. Very worth it. Mycroft might never tell the secrets of the planet builders, but he never promised anything about Anthea...


	3. Beka Cooper - Tamora Pierce Fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fusion with Tamora Pierce's Beka Cooper series (Mastiff, Terrier etc).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, unfinished. 
> 
> Original posting: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/14370.html?view=116547106#t116547106

When Sherlock was little he assumed everyone could see them, could hear them the fascinating little bits of not quite nothing – air, dust, and such – on corners and tucked away amongst the streets. Mummy never understands why he drags his feet and stares at nothing on the streets. The one time he tries to tell her, “look Mummy spinners” with all the earnest eagerness of a 5 year old she slapped him across the face and shouted about the father Sherlock never got to meet. Sherlock doesn’t get it but never tries to tell anyone again. 

When Sherlock was 6 and ¾ he finally managed to sneak off to be alone with one of them. He wanted to study the physics of why they managed to spin without any breezes or effort. What he didn’t anticipate was the sheer cacophony of voices that cried out from the spinner. It takes him four afternoons of sneaking off before he realizes that not only do they hold air and dust and such, but also memories of what had been near them. 

It’s Mycroft who finally follows him one afternoon. “Father could see them too” is all he says after waiting for Sherlock by a phone booth. Mycroft can’t though, Sherlock realizes. One day Sherlock will watch the CCTV cameras and wonder if Mycroft made his network out of sheer envy at all the knowledge available to Sherlock and not Mycroft. It is also Mycroft who tells him his father was fond of pigeons. At 8, Sherlock knows a hint when he hears one though it takes him another 6 months before he manages to get a pigeon close enough to him to find out why. Suddenly, Mummy’s obsession with sharp decorations on the roof and windowsill make sense.

**Author's Note:**

> Two more oneshots in this crossover, I rather like towel-carrying!John, though in So Long and Thanks for all the Fish, there is a John Watson living out in California that Arthur visits.... I suppose if I were to expand these I would have our JW chosing that name on purpose...


End file.
